


Look up....

by nerdangel111



Series: Totally Unexpected relationship.... That we all saw coming [1]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, What Have I Done, don't hurt me, the author is horrible
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-21
Updated: 2017-01-24
Packaged: 2018-09-18 21:14:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9403106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdangel111/pseuds/nerdangel111
Summary: Set almost a year after Ian and Mickey split at the border. That's all you're getting.





	1. Chapter 1

Do you ever wake up with a bad feeling? Not like, a post-nightmare-fear type thing. No. Just from the second you regain full consciousness, a feeling that tells you beyond a shadow of a doubt, that something very bad is about to happen. That was the feeling that Ian had woken to. Nothing went wrong though. He woke up in Trevor's arms, work wasn't hellish, no one in the family had tried to drag him into drama. No, his day had been actually really great. *then why can't I shake this feeling?* he thought as he stepped out the family house front door. That was when he saw Mandy. She was crying-no, that wasn't crying, that was sobbing. Ian jogged across the street to where she was sitting on her front porch, knees drawn up to her chest, arms folded over them, and her head laid on her arms. 

 

"Mands?" He gently touched her arm, and she jumped, looking up at him with puffy red eyes. 

 

"I-Ian? Oh my god IIIIIIIAN!" With that she began sobbing again, and jumped up, wrapping her arms around Ian's neck. He held her tight, whispering reassuringly into her ear, and combing his fingers through her jet black hair. Once she had calmed down enough that Ian figured that she could explain what was wrong, he pulled back, pushing a few strands behind her ear. 

 

"Okay, now, wanna tell me why you're ruining you're mascara?" They both chuckled as he swiped her tears away with his thumbs. But Mandy's smile faded as she looked Ian in the eye. 

"I-Its....Ian it's about Mickey." All the air around them seemed to be gone at the mention of the old mans name. Jesus what was it now? He sighed as he let her go, turning away, and pulled out a cigarette, lighting it. 

 

"What happened, he get himself caught? " He asked as he blew out a cloud of smoke. Mandy was quiet for a long moment. So long, Ian was about to turn around and apologize, when she spoke. 

 

"Mickey's dead Ian." Those three words shattered Ian's world. The cigarette fell from his fingers. Suddenly breathing felt like an impossibility. His heart clenched painfully in his chest. 

 

"I-I.....but.....how?" He turned to face her, tears streaming down his cheeks.

 

"He, well, he...." Ian grabbed her by her shoulders, shaking her slightly.

 

"What had to him?!" He demanded. For a second, she just stared at him with wide eyes, before she took his hands off her shoulders, holding them between hers.

 

"Mickey committed suicide. Swallowed a bunch of pills apparently." She said, her voice hoarse and cracking. The world seemed to spin wildly around them. Ian felt sick. 

 

"I.....I gotta go" with that he took off down the street. This couldn't be true. Mickey couldn't be gone. It's not possible. 

*****************************

Ian had decided to deal with this pain the same way his entire family and pretty much everyone he knew dealt with pain. Getting black out drunk. He swayed as he staggered down the street, throwing back another drink of the bottle Kev had been nice enough to give him when he'd explained through hysterical tears.  
So, now, here he stood, in front of the now empty Milkovich house. It felt like a lifetime since he's stood on this front porch. He could practically feel his fingers still trembling around the tire iron. The door wasn't locked, he just pushed it open, and stepped inside. It was dark, and quiet. Nothing like how it was when he lived there. 

~"What'sthis, like a rosary for giants?" A soft chucke, and looking away, as Ian put them up to Mickey's neck like a necklace.  
"Nah man they're ben wa beads, you're supposed to shove 'em in my ass, then pull 'em out real slow." Ian stared at him.  
"How's that fun for me?" He gently smacked Mickey's uninjured cheek as he bent over the couch.  
"Easy, on the injured cheek, okay?" Mickey chuckled.  
"I'll just go on the other one" Ian quickly cut off both their laughter as he slid inside the incredibly tight heat.~

Ian regretted it, he should've taken his time that day. Maybe then Terry wouldn't have caught them in quite as compromising situation. FUCK Terry. He walked through the living room smiling as memories started to pour in.

~Mickey bent over the kitchen counter, tattooed fingers turning white from their grip on the counter top, as Ian pounded into him mercilessly. The ex con had just come out to his dad, and a bar full of other drunks. The adrenaline was coursing through their veins. Ian leaned up, kissing the back of Mickey's neck, nipping at his ear. The older man moaned at the feeling, tightening around Ian's cock.  
"Mmmm, Mickey, so fucking proud of you, knew you could do it Mick, you're so amazing."  
"Couldn't......couldn't lose you....."~

Ian walked over to Mickey's old room, remembering a younger, dumber, and braver him walking up to that same door. There was in fact still a bed inside, but bare other than that. He walked in, sitting on the bed, taking another drink. 

~"I want the gun back Mickey!" Young Ian said, pointing the tire iron at Mickey's prone form.  
"Gallagher?" He grumbled, rubbing his eyes sleepily.  
"The gun, now!" He repeated, waving his make-shift weapon at the thug, who put his hand up defensively.  
"Alright." And it was a blur from there. A blur that landed Mickey on his chest, the tire iron held in the older boy's raised hand. Ian was wincing, waiting for the blows to start. But they never did. When he looked up, he saw the lust in the others eyes.~

Ian breathed heavily, now laid back on the bed, starting to cry again. 

*********************************

Ian woke up with a pounding headache. He sat up slowly, taking in his surroundings. Mickey's room. Mickey's house. Mickey,is dead. Ian threw himself from the bed, running to the bathroom, and vomiting all the contents of his stomach. 

~"S'What you get food drinking all night, just cause those old dudes offer, don't mean you take 'em dumbass"~

Mickey's voice was so clear that Ian turned around quickly. Empty. He placed his head on the sink and got out his phone. 84 texts, 67 missed calls and 67 voice-mails. Fionna was the first one he called. 

 

"Ian?!" He jerked the phone away from his ear, and groaned. 

 

"What?" He heard her huff on the other end of the phone. Here we go. 

 

"Where are you Ian, we....we heard about Mickey." The name shot pain straight through his heart. There was a silence on the other line. 

 

"Ian I am so so-" Oh hell no. 

 

"Sorry? Is that what you were gonna say Fi? Sorry?! I should have gone with him! But no, that would've 'ruin my life' wouldn't it? I should have been there for him god damn it and now he's fucking gone! How bout you all just do me a huge fucking favor, and LEAVE ME ALONE! " He threw his phone hard, shattering it against the wall. Getting up, he quickly grabbed the bottle that he'd put on the ground and left, barely noticing the boxes he hadn't even seen last night. He walked out the front door, and took a big swig. This was gonna be a long day. 

********************************

Hours, and another bottle later it was getting dark again. He couldn't bring himself to go back to the house, his or Mickey's. Walking out of the Alibi, he looked to the right. 

~"So, you really came out, huh?" Ian offered Mickey the flask,and he took it, throwing his head back to take a drink.  
"Yeah, well, don't think I'll be wearin a fucking dress or nothin" this caused Ian to smile.  
"Nobody fuckin asked you to.....though you do have really nice legs." Both of them started to laugh, and in that moment Mickey dawned a smile that lit up the whole south side.  
"You're a fuckin dick...."~

Ian kept walking, more like stumbling. He wandered aimlessly through the streets for a long while. Everywhere he went he got glimpses of him and Mickey's life. Every street, every shop, every single place he looked. Eventually he made it to the baseball field. He ran his fingers over the chain length fence in front of their dugout. 

~Ian's fingers curled around Mickey's through the fence. Hid he had missed this so much, and he knew Mickey had too. He didn't have to say it. Ian could feel it in the way the ex con tightened around the hard dick inside him the second Ian's fingers touched his. The way Mickey pushed his ass out for the redhead to take. Mickey never had to say it. ~

Ian held onto the fence, staring out into the dark empty field. Why didn't he go with Mickey? Was he scared? Why the hell did he change his mind, at the last second?! Before he could control it he was slamming his fist into the fence post over, and over, and over, until he heard a crack,no doubt the bone in his hand. Not that he could really feel it anyway. 

 

"God fucking damn it!!!" He screamed, throwing the bottle against the dugout wall, before collapsing onto the ground, curling in on himself. 

 

"I'm so sorry mickey, good, I-I'm so fucking sorry. I love you so much, don't leave me...." He sobbed heavily, rolling onto his back he stared up at the sky. 

~"What you want us to put a blanket out and look for shooting stars next?"~

A shoot star went by, and Ian slowly closed his eyes. 

 

"Please don't leave me. "

*******************************************

This time, it was still night out when he woke up. The headache wasn't as bad this time, in fact his head was still buzzing a little. He stumbled to his feet, and started to walk till he found a pay phone. 

 

"Hello?!" Fionna sounded distraught, and Ian felt guilty. 

 

"Fi?" He didn't even recognize his own voice, dry, and cracked, and just a little hoarse. 

 

"Ian?! Oh thank God! Ian I need to-" 

 

"Wait, Fionna look, I'm, I'm sorry. I didn't mean any of that crap I said. Well, I....I do wish I hadn't listened to you, but it wasn't your fault." He said the last bit a little quieter. 

 

"No, Ian, you're not listening, h-" the line went dead. 

 

"Please insert 25 cents for the next-" Ian hung up with a huff. Stupid crappy payphones. He would just have to go see what she was trying to say in person. As he once again began walking, he noticed the high-school football field out of the corner of his eye. 

~"Our spot man..."~

The phase echoed through his head. Why not, right? One last stop on memory lane. He hopped the fence and headed behind the bleachers. Mickey hadn't looked like he'd been sleeping at all, Ian remembered. Dark circles under his eyes, skin paler than usual. He sat down, right in the same spot Mickey had, images of the many hook ups they'd had in this very spot, the late night talks, stolen kisses (when he'd finally convinced the little thug to kiss him). Once again he felt the lump of regret, pain, and sorrow start to well up in his throat. He laid his head in his head hands trying to stop the tears from coming out. ~"How am I gonna find you?"~ "Look up...." Ian's head shot up from his hands. That, hadn't been in his head, but then, how? He looked up at the bleachers above him, to see a small black flip phone. It started to ring, and he quickly grabbed it, flipping it open. "Hello?" "Miss me?"


	2. Chapter 2

Ian woke to the steady beeping of a heart monitor. Blinking slowly, he attempted to move, wincing when a sharp pain shot through his hand. He lifted it slowly, it was wrapped up, all the way down to his wrist. What happened? He sat up, rubbing his eyes as he tried to recall how he had gotten there. The bleachers, he had been under the high-school bleachers. 

 

~"Miss me?"~

 

"Mickey." Ian gasped. Mickey had been there! MICKEY WAS ALIVE! Just then, Lip came through the door to his room, and his face lit up. He was to Ian's bedside instantly. 

 

"Ian, oh my fucking god, we were so worried-"

 

"Where is he? Where's Mickey?" Ian cut him off. His brother looked hesitant, and Ian felt anger and fear bubble up inside him. He huffed, pushing Lip away, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, and standing shakily. 

 

"Woah, Woah! Ian, stop, you shouldn't be up, look....." Lip sighed, gently pushing on Ian's shoulder to sit him down. 

 

"Yeah, okay, you're right, he's alive, he's, the one that brought you in. You passed out and smacked your head on a metal beam." The image made both Gallaghers laugh. Lip looked at Ian, as their laughter died down. 

 

"We asked him to go find you." He explained. 

 

~Lip frantically paced back and forth, phone up to his ear, as he tried Ian's number for the millionth time. Still nothing.

 

"Shit!" He hung up. 

 

"Don't ever fucking scare me like that again you prick!" Lip honest to God could not believe what he saw. Mandy, with her arms wrapped tightly around the whole reason for his brother running off. Again. Lip stomped down of the porch. 

 

"You son of a bitch!" He roared going toward Mickey, with rage fueling each step. Rage that dissipated as soon as Mandy stepped between them. 

 

"I just got him back, if you threaten that, I'll pull those blue eyes outta your head." Lip couldn't stop the small smile that came to his face, god she was amazing. 

 

"Ian is missing. Okay? Ever since you told him asshat here was dead." He and Mickey exchanged irritated glances before his words seemed to have set in. 

 

"You told him?! Mands!" 

 

"Um, I'm sorry, I had just been told by Mexican police that my stupid brother was dead!" She said as she shoved her brother. Mickey rolled his eyes, then turned his attention to Lip. 

 

"So what, you want me to go get him? Bring him back again?" The ex con asked with a raised brow. 

 

"Please." Lip felt the fear well up in his heart. Mickey was silent, his eyes darting around as he chewed his lower lip. 

 

"Fine. But after that, I'm done. He made it pretty damn clear how he felt at the border."~

 

Ian felt sick again. Mickey didn't want to see him. It was over. He'd ruined everything. 

 

"No." His brother jumped at the sudden break in silence. Ian stop up, more determined this time.

 

"I won't let it end like this." Ian said, as he pulled the i.v. out of his uninjured hand. 

 

"Where are my clothes?" For a moment, Lip looked like he was going to tell Ian to sit down again, but then something shifted. He got up off the bed, glancing out the door, before going to the large metal cabinet beside them, retrieving a fresh set of clothes, that they had brought in for Ian while he was still unconcious. Ian took the clothes, and started to dress, as quickly as he could manage. Lip stood at the door, watching where the rest of their siblings stood, nervously chatting at the nurse's station. Once the younger was finally dressed they stood side by side at the door. 

 

"I'll distract 'em." They shared a smile, reminiscent of their younger days. 

 

"Go get your little thug"

 

*************************************************

 

Every muscle in Ian's body protested as he walked down the street. But his heart pounding in his chest, propelled him forward, until, yet again, he stood at the gate of the Milkovich house. The boxes, the bed. Mickey was here. A light was on in the living room. Slowly he opened the gate, stepping up onto the porch. He briefly considered knocking on the door. Instead, he reached for the door handle, and couldn't help but chuckle. Still unlocked. He pushed it open as quietly as he could. No one was in the front room, as he silently stepped in and closed the door. 

 

"Ow, fuck!" Ian nearly jumped out of his skin as something clattered on the floor in the kitchen. He stepped in a little further, until he could see the kitchen doorway. Nothing could have prepared him for the feeling that shot through him at the sight of Mickey, walking out, waving his burnt hand in pain. 

 

"Mickey?" Time froze as green eyes met blue. Ian felt his heart clench. Mickey was standing there, looking torn between bolting, and telling Ian to get out. Neither of which was Ian prepared to allow. As soon as he could feel his body again he stepped forward, happy when the older man didn't make a move to take off, just stared at him, as if Ian had been the one 'dead' a few hours ago. 

 

"Mickey I-" 

 

"Stop." Mickey's eyes left Ian's, darting to the ground, and it broke Ian's heart. He took another step, and when the ex con still did not retreated, the red head took his shot. Closing the distance between them took only a few long strides, and he wrapped his arms around the smaller man. He could feel himself shaking, from fear, from pain, from exhaustion, but he needed this. Mickey didn't pull away, or shove him like he'd expected. 

 

"What're you doin here Ian?" He asked, muffled slightly from where his face was shoved into the ginger's shoulder. Without warning Ian suddenly dropped to his knees, his hands gripped Mickey's pant legs, his head laid on Mickey's thighs, and he started to cry. 

 

"I'm so sorry Mick! I-I'm so fucking sorry, please, please forgive me! I should have stayed with you, should have never left. I couldn't take the thought of you being gone forever, not with how we ended, not ever. Please forgive me Mickey please!" He was babbling, clinging desperately to the front of Mickey's sweat pants. There was all of a sudden a hand on his jaw, forcing him to look into those stunning blue eyes once again. 

 

"You been takin' your meds?" The question surprised Ian. His meds? What did what have to do with this? But the stern look he was receiving, made him answer anyway, nodding as best he could. With that, Mickey's face softened. He ran his thumb over Ian's cheek, wiping the tears. 

 

"Get up off the floor man, come on, " His efforts to pull the younger boy up were stopped by a hand on his arm. 

 

"Wait, there's something I wanna ask you." Ian said, shifting so that he was on one knee. Mickey's chest suddenly felt tight, as, sure enough, Ian pulled a small black box out of his pocket, pointing it toward him,and opened it, showing a golden band,with a small diamond embedded in it. 

 

"Mikhailo Aleksandr Milkovich, will you please, please, marry me?" Mickey just stared at him, wide eyed, mouth open. A long moment passed, and Ian felt his heart sink. He closed the box, pulling himself up with his uninjured hand, and turning to walk out, and probably drink himself to sleep, when a hand gripped his arm. 

 

"You better put that fucking ring on my finger, before I break all of yours." Ian whipped back around, to see that heart-melting smile that seemed to be reserved for only him. He slipped the ring onto Mickey's finger, and it's like a switch flipped. Suddenly they were tearing at their clothes, devouring each other's mouths desperately. Ian pressed Mickey against the wall hard with his entire body. God he missed this, crazy, shit-talking, bitch-slapping, incredible, caring, man with all his heart. Somehow, without injury (or in Ian's case further injury) they made it to the bedroom, both down to only underwear. Mickey fell back onto the bed with a grunt, and Ian followed him. Their lips crashed together, as Ian ran his hands over Mickey's chest, abdomen, down to the hem of his boxers, toying with it a moment before hooking his thumbs into the waistband (only way to do it when you break your hand being stupid) pulling them down and off. He peppered kisses over the skin as it was exposed, which caused the sweetest sounds to ring out above him. Mickey's hips jerked when his cock was engulfed by wet heat. 

 

"Holy.....God Ian....." He sounded so breathless, his fingers curling into that fire-red hair as Ian began bobbing his head. It started off slowly, but soon Mickey was an incoherent mess as that slick mouth worked up and down, so fucking expertly, that he was on edge. He tugged at Ian's hair, he didn't want this to be over yet. But damn that little asshole just hummed, taking him into his throat with ease, and that was it. Mickey came, hips arching off the bed, as his fingers tightened almost painfully in those soft strands, but the younger man just took it, swallowing every drop. Ian pulled off with an obscene 'pop'. He grinned up at Mickey deviously, and fuck-all that boy was really gonna be the end of him. Mickey pulled him up, kissing him, a little softer this time, but no less urgent. Ian pulled back a bit placing two fingers to those beautiful, fucking deliciously thick lips. Mickey accepted them instantly, sucking and licking, and wetting them without hesitation. Once they were good and wet, Ian hooked an arm under one of Mickey's knees, spreading him open. He circled the furled skin with both fingers, before pushing one in. 

 

"Jesus fuck Mick, you're so fucking tight." Mickey let our a breathless laugh.

 

"It HAS been a year." He answered, and it took a moment for the meaning of those words to sink in. Ian started pushing his finger in and it, quickly adding a second. Mickey had waited for him. He hadn't let anyone touch him here. Something hot, and possessive struck Ian at the thought. He scissored his fingers apart a few more times, before pulling them out. Mickey made a displeased sound at the loss, but Ian just spit into his own hand as he lowered his boxers, and slicked up his long thick cock. He traced the leaking head around the entrance, just to make the older man squirm. Slowly he pushed the tip inside. 

 

"Mickey, oh, fuck! You're, oh Mick so fucking tight, so fucking good " He whispered into Mickey's ear as he pushed in, inch by torturous inch. When he finally bottomed out, they stayed that way, Ian buried deep, allowing Mickey to adjust, but, patience was never the ex con's strong suit. He ground his hips down, making the younger man's grip on his splayed thighs tighten. Their eyes met once again, and Mickey's heart skipped at the grin Ian shot his way. 

 

"As you wish." Before Mickey had time to process the words, his legs were hefted over Ian's shoulders, and the little devil started to pound into his with impossible force. Each thrust slammed straight into Mickey's prostate, which had only been occasionally grazed up to this point. But now Ian was hammering relentlessly into that spot, causing Mickey to cry out, wrapping his hands around Ian's arms and digging his blunt nails into the ginger's biceps, as he was bent in half. All the while Ian was whispering into his ear. 

 

"So good for me Mick. So tight, so fucking good for me Mickey, such a good boy." Mickey whined at the constant stimulation. Ian's voice, his hands, his cock. Neither of them was going to last long, they knew that from the beginning. But what neither expected was for Mickey to cum first, untouched, screaming Ian's name as he tightened. Ian followed (just like he always would) Mickey over the edge, spilling himself deep inside of his fiance. For a minute, they just sat there, until the position became uncomfortable. Ian pulled out gently, falling down onto the bed, and they arranged themselves, Mickey's back to Ian's chest. Mickey lifted his left hand, inspecting the ring on it as Ian laced their fingers together. 

 

"Svetlana." Ian jolted. 

 

"What?" 

 

"Svetlana pulled a few strings, did a few favors, and got my charges dropped." The older man explained drowsly. Ian relaxed. He would have to thank her later. 

 

"So you really gonna marry me Mick?" He asked pulling Mickey tight up against him, and he felt him chuckle. 

 

"Yeah. Don't be thinking I'm gonna wear a fuckin dress though." This made Ian laugh. 

 

"I've heard that before."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooooooo???? I was thinking maybe, wedding chapter????? COMMENTS AND KUDOS ARE APPRECIATED! Next chapter, the faked suicide will be explained


End file.
